You step into the grand ballroom, the laughter of the crowd and the soft murmur of conversations filling the air. It’s a night of elegance, the glittering chandeliers above casting soft light across the polished marble floor. The scent of rich wine and perfume mingles in the atmosphere. You’re unsure of exactly how you’ve ended up here, but there’s no denying the allure of the festivities surrounding you.

As you take a slow, deliberate step into the crowd, your eyes catch her.

She stands near a table laden with delicate pastries, her fiery red hair cascading in waves down her back. The dress she wears is a deep crimson, form-fitting and elegant, with delicate lace at the collar and sleeves that almost seem to shimmer as she moves. The fabric clings to her curves in all the right places, the long slit of the skirt revealing a flash of bare skin with each step she takes. It’s both captivating and graceful, perfectly suiting her demeanor. Her eyes, a piercing green, meet yours briefly over the crowd. The look is confident, knowing—like she’s already gauging who you are.

As you walk closer, you notice the subtle details—the way her lips curl into an almost playful smile, her posture confident yet relaxed, like she’s comfortable in her skin. It’s the sort of elegance that doesn’t feel forced, like she’s in perfect control of the room, but not in a way that demands attention.

She notices you moving toward her, and her smile widens slightly, the curve of her lips inviting but not overtly flirty. Her eyes follow you carefully, as though measuring you, and you can’t help but feel a sudden awareness of your own movements.

Triss.

You know the name.

A sorceress, known for her power and her presence. Even here, in this room full of glittering nobles and mages, she stands out.